"Of course she didn't make it herself. My God," I said impatiently.
"I was hoping this would be over, Benton. "
"Not quite yet."
"What about Gault?"
"No sign of him. And the asshole at Eye Spy denies Gault was ever there."
He paused.
"You're sure you saw him?"
"I would swear to it in court."
I would have recognized Temple Gault anywhere. Sometimes I saw his eyes in my sleep, saw them bright like blue glass staring through a barely opened door leading into a strange, dark room filled with a putrid smell. I would envision Helen the prison guard in her uniform and decapitated. She was propped up in the chair where Gault had left her, and I wondered about the poor farmer who had made the mistake of opening the bowling bag he had found on his land.
"I'm sorry, too," Wesley was saying.
"You can't imagine how sorry I am." Then I told him I was sending Lucy to Rhode Island. I told him everything I could think of that I had not already told him, and when it was his turn to fill me in I switched the lamp off on the table by my bed and listened to him in the dark.
"It's not going well here. As I've said, Gault's vanished again. He's screwing with our minds. We don't know what he's involved in and what he isn't. We have this case in North Carolina and now one in England, and suddenly he shows up in Springfield and appears to be involved in the espionage that's gone on at ERF."
"There's no appears to be about it, Benton. He's been inside the Bureau's brain. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"At present, ERF's changing codes, passwords, that sort of thing. We're hoping he's not been in too deep."
"Hope on."
"Kay, Black Mountain's got a search warrant for Creed Lindsey's house and truck."
"Have they found him?"
"No."
"What does Marino have to say?" I asked.
"Who the hell knows?"
"You haven't seen him?"
"Not much. I think he's spending a lot of time with Denesa Steiner."
"I thought she was out of town."
"She's back."
"How serious is this with them, Benton?"
"Pete's obsessed. I've never seen him like this. I don't believe we're going to be able to pull him out of here."
"And you?"
"I'll probably be in and out for a while, but it's hard to say." He sounded discouraged.
"All I can do is give my advice, Kay. But the cops are listening to Pete, and Pete's not listening to anybody."
"What does Mrs. Steiner have to say about Lindsey?"
"She says it could have been him in her house that night. But she really didn't get much of a look."
"His speech is distinctive."
"That's been mentioned to her. She says she doesn't remember much about the intruder's voice except that he sounded white."
"He also has a strong body odor."
"We don't know if he would have that night."
"I doubt his hygiene is good on any night."
"The point is, her not being sure only makes the case against him stronger. And the cops are getting all kinds of calls about him. He was spotted here and there doing suspicious things like staring at some kid he drove past. Or a truck like his was seen near Lake Tomahawk shortly after Emily disappeared. You know what happens when people make up their minds about something."
"What have you made up your mind about?" Darkness clung to me like a soft, comforting cover, and I was aware of the timbre of the tones in the sounds he made. He had a lean, muscular voice. Like his physique, it was very subtle in its beauty and power.
"This guy. Creed, doesn't fit, and I'm still disturbed about Ferguson. By the way, we got the DNA results and the skin was hers. "
"No big surprise."
"Something just doesn't feel right about Ferguson."
"Do you know anything more about him?"
"I'm running down some things."
"And Gault?"
"We still have to consider him. That he did her." He paused.
"I want to see you." My eyelids were heavy and my voice sounded dreamy to me as I lay against my pillows in the dark.
"Well, I've got to go to Knoxville. That's not very far from you. "
"You're seeing Katz?"
"He and Dr. Shade are running my experiment. They should be about finished."
"The Farm is one place I have no desire to visit."
"I guess you're saying you won't meet me there."
"That's not why I won't."
"You'll go home for the weekend," I said.
"In the morning."
" Is everything all right?" It was awkward to ask about his family, and rarely did either of us mention his wife.
" Well, the kids are too old for Halloween, so at least there are no parties or costume making to worry about. "
" No one's ever too old for Halloween."
" You know, trick-or-treating used to be a big production in my house. I had to drive the kids around and all that."
" You probably carried a gun and X-rayed their candy."
" You're one to talk," he said.
17
In the early hours of Saturday morning I packed for Knoxville and helped Dorothy put together the appropriate accoutrements for someone going where Lucy was. It was not easy to make my sister understand that Lucy would need no clothing that was expensive or required dry cleaning or ironing. When I emphasized that nothing valuable should be taken, Dorothy got quite upset.
"Oh my God. It's like she's going off to a penitentiary!" We were working in the bedroom where she was staying so we would not wake Lucy.
I tucked a folded sweatshirt into the suitcase open on the bed.
"Listen, I don't even recommend taking expensive jewelry when you're staying in a fine hotel."
"I have a lot of expensive jewelry and stay in fine hotels all the time. The difference is I don't have to worry about drug addicts being down the hall."
"Dorothy, there are drug addicts everywhere. You don't have to go to Edgehill to find them."
"She's going to pitch a fit when she finds out she can't have her laptop."
"I'll explain to her that it's not allowed, and I am confident she'll understand."
"I think it's very rigid on their part."
"The point of Lucy's being there is to work on herself, not on computer programs."
I picked up Lucy's Nikes and thought of the locker room at Quantico, of her being muddy from head to toe and bleeding and burned from running the Yellow Brick Road. She had seemed so happy then, and yet she could not have been.
I felt sick that I had not known of her difficulties earlier. If only I had spent more time with her, maybe none of this would have happened.
"I still think it's ridiculous. If I had to go to a place like that, they certainly couldn't stop me from doing my writing. It's my best therapy. It's just a shame Lucy doesn't have something like that because if she did I'm convinced she wouldn't have so many problems. Why didn't you pick the Betty Ford Clinic? "
"I see no reason to send Lucy to the West Coast, and it takes longer to get in."
"I suppose they would have quite a waiting list." Dorothy looked thoughtful as she folded a pair of faded jeans.
"Imagine, you might end up spending a month with movie stars. Why, you might end up in love with one of them and next thing you know you're living in Malibu."
"Meeting movie stars is not what Lucy needs right now," I said irritably.
"Well, I just hope you know that she's not the only one who has to worry about how this looks."
I stopped what I was doing and stared at her.
"Sometimes I'd like to slap the hell out of you." Dorothy looked surprised and slightly frightened. I had never shown her the full range of my rage. I had never held up a mirror to her narcissistic, niggling life so she could see herself as I did. Not that she would have, and that, of course, was the problem.
"You're not the one who has a book about to come out. We're talking days, and then I'm on tour again. And what am I supposed to say when some interviewer asks about my daughter? How do you think my publisher is going to feel about this?"
I glanced around to see what else needed to go into the suitcase.